


Demoted

by oneofthemtheaternerds



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Death, Fire, Gen, River Styx (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Underworld, bets with a time limit, i promise that starts to get solved by chapter 3, it's like a sanders sides greek au, its a few thousand years after his 12 labors, let's be honest roman is kinda ooc in the beggining, logan is athena, roman done did goof, roman is hercules
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-23 04:34:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23205763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneofthemtheaternerds/pseuds/oneofthemtheaternerds
Summary: Roman invites himself into Virgil's home to escape an angry village. Virgil should be honored at the chance to host a demigod, but it seems he'd rather give himself to Hadees. Unfortunately, he's the only one in the village willing to help Roman on a quest to retrieve the lost souls- not that he has much choice.
Kudos: 11





	1. Home Invasion

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is a collab with the lovely [byoomgoesthegunboi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/byoomgothegunboi/pseuds/byoomgothegunboi)!! Be sure to go and check her out!

There was a knocking on Virgil’s door one sunny afternoon. But he really didn’t feel like facing the world at the moment.

It had been a month since the incident, but he still wasn’t entirely over it..

He curled up under his covers and tried to block everything out. There had been too much going on within the past couple of days, and he just needed a break from it all. Maybe he could find a way to float in the empty void of space somehow. He still had connections with Selena, he was pretty sure.

He grimaced as the knocking came again, louder and more frantic. It lasted a shorter time before he heard the sound of wood breaking, a heavy thud, followed by a loud voice. “...oops. Uh… guess no one’s home. Ah, well, they probably won’t mind if I just stay here until the people calm down…” The sound of heavy footsteps, and a door being placed back in place. “Nice place,” the voice continued, but at a softer volume. “I wonder if they have any food or drinks, I’m starving.” The sound of the refrigerator opened, then closed, then opened again.

For some unknown reason, Virgil hadn’t really taken in the fact that someone had just broken into his home. No, everything seemed like a weird fever dream at this point, and he had just thought it was his mind hallucinating. Probably deteriorating from all those nights of lost sleep.

Finally.

Though it was delayed, he did eventually realize he was getting robbed in the nicest way possible. Even after that fact hit him, he still didn’t really care; as long as his room was left alone. But as the voice continued speaking (did this thief ever shut the hell up? Didn’t they know how to rob people correctly?), another fact hit him.

Roman, the unofficial prince of the gods, was robbing him blind.

Like hell he was gonna let that happen. Virgil hopped out of bed, taking his blanket with him. It made him look like he was wearing a cape with a hood; not exactly the most intimidating look for a scrawny guy like him. He stormed out into the main living area and snarled at the intruder. “I do mind, actually. Get out.”

The intruder blinked. “Why didn’t you answer the door when I knocked? Don’t you know it’s _rude_ to deny a demigod his wishes?”

“Don’t start that with me. I know what happened, you fraud. You’re a mortal, just like us now.”

He just rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “Of course, of course! Who hasn’t Hermes told already?” This fool actually got the audacity to start talking to Virgil as if they’d known each other all their lives. “Sometimes I just can’t stand that guy. He says he’s not a gossip, but between you and mE-!” Roman yelped as Virgil suddenly shoved him forward, catching him off his guard. He fell face-first into the wooden floor boards of Virgil’s home, picking himself back up after a minute. “Was that completely necessary?”

“Yes,” Virgil hissed. “You should have gotten your face smashed in a long time ago. Maybe it would’ve actually knocked some sense into that pea-sized brain of yours.”

Roman, now actually ticked off, lifted Virgil by the collar of his hoodie, the blanket falling to the floor. There was fear in the mortal’s eyes, but he scoffed. “What’re you gonna do, kill me? Beat me up? Yeah, let’s see how much your daddy would just _love_ to see that scene play out.”

Roman simply lifted him higher, and pulled his fist back, ready to punch. Virgil squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself.

...but nothing ever came.

He opened an eye to see the demigod looking conflicted, before dropping him. The smaller man landed with a heavy thud. “Look,” Roman started with a sigh. “That wasn’t the best course of action, but I’m stressed. I messed up. Not just here, I’ve messed up big time.”

The smaller man crossed his arms. “No shit, sherlock.”

He scowled at him, but continued. “I’ve been _trying_ to make it up to the citizens of Artenae! I really have!”

“And how’s that been working out for you?” Virgil raised an eyebrow, helping himself off the floor.

Roman stayed silent, and opened up one of Virgil’s curtains that faced the town. There seemed to be a huge fire covering a majority of the town square. There was distant screams of panic as people raced away from the flames that seemed to eat everything up. The houses that were away from the fire had holes and fractures in them, even though they were fine just a few days ago. Most importantly, though, there were many people running into a church, that hadn’t caught on fire yet. They carried pitchforks and clubs and unlit torches alike. 

“Smooth, Princey. Reeeeal smooth.”

“They won’t _listen_ to me!” He cried out, ignoring Virgil’s snark and yanking the curtains closed. He ended up ripping them in half instead, much to the annoyance of the homeowner. “...I’ll pay for that.”

“What you’ll do,” Virgil said, taking the ripped cloth out of his hand and attempting to shove him outside again. “Is get out of my house before I let the people know exactly where you are.”

Roman gasped. “You wouldn’t dare! I have a reputation to maintain! I have lives to help fix...after I accidentally screwed them over.” He dug his heels into the flooring, with only made it splinter and crack. Roman didn’t seem to notice. “Please, just let me find a way to solve all this and I’ll be out of your hair. I can’t do much when I’m being crucified.”

Normally, he would’ve given him a chance. He would have tried to, at least. Let him stay for a few days to see how much the town would flourish without the prince of the gods, just to rub it in his face afterwards. But Roman had gone too far with his carelessness this time. “Guess you shouldn’t’ve messed up then, huh?”

“Wh--but-! You little-!!”

“Tick tock…” he pointed to the town, where more people were running into the church. “You better stay out, or I’ll go straight to that church and tell everyone about your little hideaway.” And with that, and one final shove, Roman was outside his house.

He turned around in an attempt to reason with him, but all he saw was Virgil flipping him off as he started to practically barricade his door. 

This was going to be harder than it looked, it seemed.

~*~*~*~*~ 

Inside the church, the entire town was yelling over each other, each trying to tell the priest about what had happened the previous night. The priest, however, was attempting to calm everyone down the best he could to no avail.

“People were being struck down left and right!” they shouted. “It was that demigod Roman! I tell you!” A woman shoved her way to the front, limping and sporting a rather large pitchfork. “Killing people left and right, not a care in the world! We need to strike him down ourselves, give him what he deserves!” The entire crowd cheered in agreement.

“Ma’am, please, we can’t risk killing a demigod. I’m aware of most of the things he has done, but I fear if we kill him, Zeus will come along and strike _us_ dead.”

“But if we don’t do _something_ ,” one man shouted, “Roman’s just going to keep going until there are none of us left anyway!”

“We would die either way,” another person joined in. “Who knows where or what he’ll do next if we just let him off with a warning?!”

“Please,” the priest continued, pleading now. “The Gods know us as a peaceful town. Maybe Roman will leave if we just appeal to his-”

“To his what?! It’s not fair that _he_ gets to get away with this since he’s related to Zues! We need to kill the problem at the source before he finds his way to a more populated village!” The same man as before argued. He raised his pitchfork, starting to chant. “Death to Roman! Death to Roman!”

_Well, that’s a bit excessive, _Roman thought from his hiding place right outside the church. He was squatted down behind a pile of hay because, well, when people talked about him, he needed to know what they were saying. Not that any of it had been good nowadays.__

____

“WE SHOULD BEHEAD THE TYRANT!” Someone yelled, which caused the village to cheer again. Roman put a hand against his throat, shuddering at the very idea. _Tyrant’s a strong word,_ he thought. Typical humans, only able to see what was right in front of them. No sense of the grand scheme of things. When it came right down to it, people were like ants in a bakery. They just took and they took, not realizing what they take wasn’t supposed to be for them, and then had the audacity to get mad when they were punished for it. 

__

It wasn’t like he _knew_ that his father was going to send him down to earth, anyways. So he got a _little_ mad- big deal. Zeus got angry and caused thunderstorms all the time. Why was it suddenly against the rules for him to do it? 

__

The hell that had been breaking loose inside the church (the irony of that made Roman chuckle, despite it all) had begun to spill outside, as the priest was unable to keep his villagers calm anymore and they filed out, still chanting “Death to Roman! Death to Roman!” Roman knew when to make an exit, which was now.

__

He fled to the dense forest behind the church, crouching behind a large boulder. It felt humiliating to him to be hiding from a bunch of mortals, but he could see no other choice in the matter. Roman grumbled to himself, silently cursing his father. “Go down and fix it,” he mocked. “Apologize for your mistakes. I’m a massive hypocrite.”

__

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get his thoughts in order.

__

_”Hey, Ro,” Hermes hummed. His wings buzzing loudly and his messenger bag swaying in the wind. “Didja hear that Artenae decided on that statue they were gonna make? It’s gonna be dedicated to Logan.”_

__

_It took a moment for the demigod to realize what he said (mainly because he was sidetracked and usually tried to ignore Hermes, as the messenger god had a lot of boring gossip). But he dropped his weight as soon as it sunk in and grabbed a hold of Hermes’ arm before he could fly away. “Wait, what?! You’re not serious, are you? That guy has a whole_ town _named after him! And...at least three temples; he doesn’t need another statue!”_

__

_Hermes shrugged. “Hey, man, I just deliver the news. Now let go, I still have a good 5,000 people to tell.”_

__

_Roman balled his fists and scowled as Hermes fluttered away. He looked around, not entirely knowing what he was doing, until he saw Logan out of the corner of his eye, coming out of a bookshop. He nearly growled and stormed over to the god. And it should be noted that Roman, son of Zeus, was rather good at storming._

__

_Logan raised an eyebrow at the demigod approaching him. He seemed angry; but then again, he had his father’s temper, so that really wasn’t out of line for him. He switched his book bag to lay across his shoulder, seeing as he’d probably be here for a while, trying to calm him down. “Greetings, Roman. What seems to be the issue this time?”_

__

_“I just wanna know,” Roman replied, more yelling that conversing, “What makes you think you’re so worthy of three temples and an entire_ town _in your name when you can’t even-” he gestured up and down to the god- “When you spend your entire life in a bookshop!”_

__

_“Well,” Logan started, keeping his voice calm. Though he couldn’t help the hint of irritation that was laced into his tone. “I’ve invented many things that help the mortals of earth, and they have deemed me worthy of building statues and temples. Where as you,” he poked Roman in the chest, “have only really solved twelve issues that a select few have had, and haven’t done anything else since you were granted access to living up here. Except, I suppose, lift weights and hit on other gods.”_

__

_“Yeah, well, I have an issue with your tone,” Roman retorted, taking another step closer to Logan. Although he was just a demigod, he towered over the other god. Must’ve been all the_ weights. _“And I’m about to solve that one, too.”_

__

_Logan took a step back. “Look, if it’s a fight that you want, I’ll acknowledge that I’m completely outmatched here. But that’s exactly your problem, you’re failing to recognize the value that people put in knowledge. Brain over brawns, if you will. Put us in a battle of wits and-”_

__

_“I’m about to beat the wits out of YOU!” Roman cut in, taking another threatening step forward and moving to grab Logan’s collar. Suddenly, the sky lit up and a voice crackled down from it._

__

_ROMAN, it said._

__

_He held onto Logan’s collar, but glared up at the sky._ “Yes, _father?”_

__

_COME HERE. NOW._

__

_He begrudgingly dropped Logan (much to the nerd’s relief) and sulked over to where Zeus stood. “Before you say anything, I know it looked bad but-”_

__

_“Before we even get into you_ threatening another god, _Zeus interrupted him, materializing as a tall man rubbing his temple, “I want you to look down there and tell me what you see.” The god of the sky pointed downward, where a gap in the clouds appeared. Roman peered down at the Earth, where a town was barely visible under flames and smoke._

__

_“...I can’t really… see anything past the smoke,” he muttered. “But it looks like a village.”_

__

_“And why do you suppose,” Zeus continued, exasperated, “there’s smoke obstructing your vision?”_

__He had an idea of what happened. A bad idea. One that he hoped wasn’t the truth. But he was an optimist, and instead went for a solution that could be possible, even if the chances were slim to none. “...they had a bonfire and it got out of control?”_ _

_Zeus glared at his son, who at least had the decency to look a little ashamed under his father’s gaze. “You know that’s not true. I’ve told you a_ million times _before, Roman, living up here is a privilege that cannot be taken lightly. Every move you make, everything you think has consequences for them down there. You have to learn to control your temper.”_

__He crossed his arms, looking off to the side. “Hypocrite,” he muttered._ _

__Zeus narrowed his eyes, somehow looking a little taller than before. Thunder rumbled in the distance. “Excuse me?”__

_Normally, he would back off at this time, but he was feeling stupidly brave today. “Whenever_ you _get mad, you go and cause all sorts of damage and shit with your storms! That happens like every other day. But the one time_ I _get angry and cause a disaster to happen, you’re telling me to calm down! That isn’t exactly fair.”_

__

_Below them, lightning flashed as Zeus took a step forward, proving Roman’s point. That was neither here nor there, though, as Zeus jabbed a finger into Roman’s chest. “The difference is,” he roared, “_ I _am a god, and_ you _are just a puny little human who it looks like you have no respect for them! I don’t care if you are my son, if you keep on pulling this kind of stuff, there WILL be consequences to pay!”_

__

__Roman jolted a bit as an electric spark ran through his body, causing him to step back. “I do appreciate them! It would just be great if they appreciated_ me _for once! I was nearly mauled to death by a hydra and a lion because_ someone _wanted me to prove myself before I became immortal.” Even though they were miles above the town, there were distance screams as the fire below them started to grow and consume more of the houses. “Honestly, it’s like you see me and the other mortals as toys. All I wanted was a little appreciation, and all I’m getting is the king throwing a tantrum and directing it towards me.”  
Zeus prickled a little at his words, and took a deep breath. “Appreciation is not something you get just because you’ve done something heroic. You need to earn it.” He took another breath and looked down as rain started to fall, slowly quenching the flames. “And you’re far from earning it from them.”__

__

_“Says you. I don’t see you doing anything to cause appreciation from them. If anything, they fear you. If you couldn’t kill them, they would’ve stormed up here a long time ago to overthrow you,” Roman huffed. Yes, he knew that wasn’t how it worked. No, he didn’t care. He was making a point._

__

_Zeus glared at him and raised his hand. Roman flinched despite himself, but instead of bringing the hand down, Zeus balled it into a fist and suddenly the rain below them stopped, allowing flames to continue demolishing the village. “I tried to reason with you,” he growled, stepping back from his son. “But it seems there’s only one way to get you to understand this.”_

__

_“Wh-what do you mean one way?” He didn’t like Zues’ tone. “There can be more than one way!”_

__

_“You need to learn what it takes to earn their trust,” Zeus replied, making a complicated hand gesture that Roman was sure he wouldn’t enjoy. “Before you can even_ think _about getting their admiration. So you’re going to go and apologize. Make things right, and I’ll think about letting you back up.”_

__“What? No! You weren’t even listening to me! This isn’t fair!”_ _

_“I am your father, I get to decide what’s fair for you.” Zeus crossed his arms with an air of finality. “Roman, you are to go and fix what you’ve done. And that’s final.” And before Roman could respond, Zeus snapped his fingers and the ground underneath Roman’s feet vanished._

__

_He felt a lurch as gravity took over. Then he was falling, falling, falling, and suddenly the ground came up to meet him and everything went black._

__

He chanced a look back at the village; it seemed that the crowd was over at that young mortal’s home he tried to take refuge in. Roman prayed that the grumpy one wouldn’t give word that he had been their moments prior, and retreated further into the woods. _Maybe_ , he thought, _I can make myself a hut and just wait for their anger to subside before I make myself known._. He wished he had an ax; but since he also wished to keep his head attached to his body, he figured he’d have to find a cave of some sort that didn’t have a hydra or gorgon living in it already.

__

Nodding to himself, he started deeper into the woods.

__


	2. The Quest

Virgil jumped awake at the sudden angry chanting. He wasn’t quite sure when he went to sleep, or if the encounter with Roman was real or just a weird dream he had. But as he walked into the living room and saw the torn floorboards and curtain, the reality of it all came flooding back to him.

He couldn’t believe he had kicked an ex-demigod out of his home. If Patton were here, he’d be scolding him for his manners right about now. He could just hear his voice- ‘ _I can’t believe you denied him protection! He may have messed up, but he made a mistake! Surely he’s worthy of a second chance?_ ”

 _Stop it, you idiot,_ He thought, starting to take away his barricade as he could see some people from the town outside his window. _You’re gonna look pathetic in front of the villagers._

He pulled a chair down from in front of his door and sat at the kitchen window, watching as the villagers slowly made their way in his direction. He thought again about telling them all about his visit yesterday. It would be all too easy to let them know and be done with it. Suddenly, however, Patton’s voice came to his head again.

‘ _You’d really let him die after all he’s been through? That’s a little harsh, dontcha think?’_ He held his head in his hands, trying to block out the voice. 

“I don’t care, Patton, and besides, you’re not even here for me to-” he paused, looking out at the villagers as a sudden idea came to him.

The crowd reached his door and banged on it, causing him to instinctively flinch. Most of the barricade was gone; all he had to do was scoot a table or two out of the way before opening the door. “This is about Roman, isn’t it?” He asked, leaning against the doorframe. “What, are you guys planning to burn him alive?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of beheading,” a woman at the front of the crowd said. Virgil rubbed his throat and frowned. A bit too new-school for his taste. He supposed such were the hazards of living in a town like Artenae, where Logan was honored and thus villagers tended to admire novel innovations for doing the same thing a different way. Like giant head-cutting machines.

“Maybe… instead of beheading the son of a god…” he said slowly, like talking to a toddler. “We ask Roman to bring back the souls of those who died?”

“Like Pat-”

“Can we _not_ speak about Patton?” He snapped.

The angry mob shrank back a little, and stared in silence at him. Virgil sighed.

“Look, all I’m saying is that instead of punishing him, we put him to good use? The gods have given us a demigod and, even though he’s not the best at what he does-” he gestured to the village, smoldering and broken- “clearly- he’s still a demigod, and he’s here. How many other towns could say the same?”

“...not many,” a man muttered. “But he’s mortal now! This task would be nearly impossible and... harrowing...” he stopped as realization hit him hard.

“Do you get what I’m saying?” Virgil nodded slowly. “He’s done his 12 labors. I think he can do one more.”

Slowly, the mob nodded their head in unison. Murmurs began to ripple around the crowd.

“He’d surely die in the process…”

“The gods will see it as another test for him…”

“Our hands would be clean…”

“Great,” he said sarcastically. “Glad you all came to your senses. Now we need to find him and bring him back alive.” He narrowed his eyes at one particular man with a moustache, who was busy sharpening a knife. Said man scowled at him and pocketed the weapon.

“But Virgil! He could be anywhere by now!”

Virgil looked around the crowd, then flicked his eyes over to where he’d last seen the demigod sneaking off.

“I’d bet you anything he’s still close by,” he said finally. The gods sent him here for a reason, so he’s not going to go far. Check the forests, I’m sure he’s hiding out somewhere.”

The crowd started off towards the forest, most of them still holding their pitchforks. “And uh... don’t scare him,” he adds. “He’s still got his super strength and he’s still...himself.”

Some people dropped their pitchforks, but most kept them close to their person. The crowd split up and started searching through the forest.

Virgil watched them go for a while, then stepped back and shut his door. He paused, took a deep breath, and headed back to his room. In the corner of his dresser, there was an old painting in a wooden frame hidden beneath other odds and ends that had collected over the years. He reached for it, hesitated, and picked it up. Patton and himself smiled at him from the frame.

He focused more than ever on Patton’s dimples, his curly blonde hair and the freckles that were dusted across his cheeks and nose. Patton’s sky blue eyes stared back at him, and he wished more than ever that he was actually here with him again. Virgil would give _anything_ to hear one of his stupid dad jokes or get a hug attack one last time. 

He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “Soon,” he muttered, remembering a phrase Patton used to tell him all the time. “Just keep your head up, and things will all get better soon.”

He put the picture back on his dresser and fell onto his bed, pulling the covers up over his head. Tears began to leak out of his eyes and he rubbed them away hastily. When Patton had died, it took Virgil forever to accept the fact that he’d never see him again. Now, with Roman here, there was hope that that might not be the case.

He didn’t know which one was worse.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Roman had finally found a decent cave for the night; thought the bad news was it was too close to the village for comfort. In his defense, his toga made him stand out amongst all the shrubbery, and he was certain those villagers would hunt him down easily if he stayed out in the open for too long.

He was in the middle of dragging old dead branches and leaves to disguise his hideout when he heard footsteps. He froze.

Demigods have naturally good hearing, as well as all other senses. The people weren’t terribly close yet, but by the sounds of it they were approaching quickly. Roman looked around frantically, searching for a place to hide until they passed. He ducked behind a shrub just as a small group of people came into view.

“You search the cave,” the leader of this group said, “Anatole and I will search the rest of the area.”

 _Shit,_ Roman thought. He didn’t have his shapeshifting ability anymore, so he couldn’t disguise himself as a squirrel or poison ivy bush. He knew he’d have to think fast, but he wasn’t the best at thinking when he was under pressure.

Maybe he was faster than the villagers. His mortal body didn’t have nearly as much speed and strength as the one one used on Olympus, but _some_ of that had to carry over, right? Perhaps, if he just got up and bolted, he could lose them behind a tree or something.

Nodding to himself, he got up on his toes, still squatting behind the shrub, counting to himself as the villagers’ footsteps grew closer. _One… two… three!_ He sprang up, meaning to bolt for the denser forest cover, took three steps, and ran right into one of the villagers.

The villager fell back, looking a little stunned. “Hey, watch where you’re- oh. Oh wait! Guys, I found him!” He took hold of Roman’s wrist, in hopes of keeping him in place.

Roman, however, had other ideas. He squirmed out of the villager’s grasp and turned on him, puffing out his chest. “How DARE you try and capture a demigod like that. Honestly- I know you’re out for me, but grabbing me by the _wrist?_ Where’s the respect, the _chase_ I deserve-”

He was cut off as another villager took both his wrists from behind, held them against his back, and shoved a pitchfork to the back of his neck.

“Drop the attitude and walk, Roman.” The leader instructed. In all his years of living, Roman had never felt so humiliated. He really had no other choice but to follow directions, however, as the pitchfork was pressed against the back of his neck with more force. “Don’t try and start a conversation, either. We have no interest in talking with a scum like you.”

They walked in silence out of the woods, through the village, and toward a familiar looking house. Roman recognized it and his mouth flung open of its own accord. “Hold on, he did _not_ -”

“We said shut up,” the villager behind him snarled, shoving him forward. Roman stumbled over his feet but caught himself, shaking his head as the villager led him to the house he’d tried to take refuge in just hours before.

One of the other villagers from the group knocked on the door again. There was a few minutes where nothing happened; those, of which, were a little awkward. The demigod could _easily_ escape in all honesty, if he wanted too, but at the same time, it would make him look worse than he already was _and_ the villagers probably could catch him now that he was out in the open. 

He was, however, preparing a very angry rant in his head for the little man that sold him out with ease. 

Virgil opened the door, finally, and couldn’t help but smile the _tiniest_ bit at seeing the sight before him. “Oh, you’re back.”

“Yeah, against my will,” Roman spat back. “If I’d have known you were gonna rat me out like this I would’ve just killed you on the spot-”

“Save it, Princey,” Virgil cut in, turning around and walking further into his house. The guards followed, dragging Roman with them. Then he turned, nodded, and the villagers finally released their hold on the demigod and left the house, shutting the door behind them.

“Why would you do that, anyways? You said if I tried to stay in here again, you would rat me out, so I left you alone and _yet_ -”

“Why do you think they brought you here?” He asked, staring up at the taller man.

“...to gloat at me before I die…?”

“No, you idiot, _I_ told them to _spare_ you. In case you didn’t know, they literally wanted your head on a silver platter. But I gave them a better idea.”

“...my entire _body_ on a silver platter?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “You flatter yourself.”

Roman gave him an incredulous look. “You’re saying you’re _not_ going to kill me.”

“Yeah, that’s way too much work. And the consequences from the gods-” Virgil shuddered. “No, we’re going to put you to good use instead.”

“What, do you want me to rebuild the buildings that got destroyed? Ha! And here I thought you mortals would-”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Virgil said, his tone making the sudden hope fade from Roman’s mind. “I get that you’re not used to this whole ‘death’ thing, but _your_ fire caused half the village to die that night. You really think we’d be that pissed because you burnt down a few buildings? Buildings can be rebuilt. Humans can’t.”

“Soooooo,” Roman said, drawing out the word as he tried to comprehend this little guy’s proposition. “You want me to rebuild… people. Do you know how this mortal stuff works-”

“No you-!” he appeared to want to just strangle Roman on the spot, having to take a few deep breaths in order to talk again. “ _You_ ,” He said at last. “Are going to go down to the underworld, and get back all the souls of this village. _Everyone_ who died that night went too soon. But if you can get them back, you will have our respect.”

For the first time since he’d been forced into the house against his own will, Roman looked nervous. He grasped at his hands and stared at the floor. “Uh- haha, yeah, I’d love to. Only… I don’t think you understand how the underworld works. See, once you’re over there, it’s _very_ difficult to-”

“Are you saying you can’t do it?” Virgil challenged, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.

“Of course I can!” Roman shot back, drawing himself up to his full height again. “It’s just that… well, I’m going to need some time… and- and probably some serious help, supplies-wise…”

“I’m not saying you _can’t_ get the help. But… to make this interesting… you have two months to get our souls back.”

“T-two _months?!_ ” Roman stuttered. “Wh-bu- I don’t even know the names of everyone who died!”

Virgil smirked. “Hadees does.”

“Wh- yeah, okay, I guess I could just stroll on into the Underworld and have a chat with the God of the Dead then.”

“Precisely.”

“I was being sarcastic. You say I don’t know death? You don’t know Hadees. The dude is _possessive_ of all the new souls who enter. He has this whole thing where he won’t let a soul go unless you strike a deal or bet with him first. That kind of bitch.”

He shrugged. “Not my problem.”

Roman wanted to scream out of frustration.

“Well, getting your people back for you is not my problem, either.”

Virgl rolled his eyes. “We both know that’s not true. You’re not getting back up to Olympus until you earn our respect, and you’re not earning our respect until you’ve given back what you took. So what’s it gonna be? Two months to get back our lost souls, or ten minutes to run and hide while I go get the priest and tell him the hunt is back on for your head?”

He knew that, in the whole scheme of things, getting back the lost souls was fair trade. His pride and ego, however, were causing him to currently curse like a sailor before sticking out a hand. “Fine. Whatever. Two months.”

Virgil nodded. “Two months. We’ll give you whatever you need as long as you get those people back. And if you fail, you’re at the mercy of the angry mob out there.”

“And if I succeed, you put a statue of me in the middle of your town square?”

“In your dreams, Princey.”

Roman huffed. “Fine. Deal.”

Virgil shook his hand, feeling some weird kind of energy pass through him. “What was that?”

Roman took his own hand back, flexing it as though shaking out a cramp. “Making a deal with a demigod- or god, for that matter- is serious business. It’s more than legally binding, it’s… well, it’s mortally binding. If either of us fails, to hold up our end of the bargain, we- you know-” he mimed taking a knife to his own throat. “Been a while since I’ve made one, I forgot what it felt like.”

“...ah, okay. So you could potentially kill me, too?”

“You have no faith in me,” he accused. Hoping Virgil would at least try and deny it.

“None whatsoever.”

Roman sighed. “I guess that’s fair. Considering the circumstances.” He paused, thinking hard, then stood up straight again, a grin on his face that Virgil took as a bad sign.

“I guess I should get to work then. And since you’re obligated to give me everything I need-” Virgil glared at him- “I think, in order to go, I’m gonna need a couple dollars for the trip. And one large meal. You know what they say, heroes are what they eat and all.”

“I hate you.” Virgil growled, going into his room and coming back with thirty drachmas. He tossed them at Roman as if he were a stripper.

Roman collected them hurriedly as Virgil passed by, making his way out the door.

“Where are you going?” he called, still grinning.

“If you are what you eat,” Virgil muttered, “I’m going out to get the biggest pig I can find.”

“Sounds divine!” Roman hummed, much to the annoyance of the mortal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Leave a comment and let us know how we did!

**Author's Note:**

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